


Wish that You Were Here

by pinkbelle



Series: to be where you are [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Awesome Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Pepper is Peter's mom, Peter Park is Pepper Pott's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Protective Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-06-23 08:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkbelle/pseuds/pinkbelle
Summary: Five times Peter got help from one of the Avengers.(:://Peter is Pepper and Tony's biological child, and the Avengers are a giant extended family)





	1. Clint

**Author's Note:**

> The first work in my new series set in a 'verse where Peter is Pepper and Tony's biological kid, and the Avengers are one big happy family who definitely don't fight and almost kill each other over the Accords or anything because when would that happen?? I have a few things planned out for this verse but if you've got anything you'd like to see in particular please feel free to send a request my way! As always, if you read an enjoy, kudos and comments are appreciated. Title comes from a Florence & the Machine song but is otherwise unrelated, and the bold next to the name of the Avenger indicates Peter's age in the chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> Исправь это = fix it (thanks for correcting this, Mn19htw1n9!)

**CLINT** ,  **thirteen**

 

Clint nursed his cup of coffee as he skimmed through the paper at the kitchen counter, one of the few parts of his routine that stayed the same no matter if he was at home or in New York. He heard the soft _ding_ of the elevator and pushed a plate with a Pop Tart sat in front of him towards the edge of the counter without looking up. The routine of being in the tower when Peter came home was something that most of the team had done at one point or another, and for the times when Clint was in the city and not with his own kids he enjoyed spending the time with Tony and Pepper’s kid.

“Your Mom and Dad got called into a meeting so you’re stuck with me,” he said, bringing the cup of coffee to his lips. The silence he got in return was uncharacteristic, and so as he heard the sound of the young boy dropping his backpack on the floor he looked up and swore. The mug was hastily discarded onto the counter and Clint grabbed Peter by the arm and lifted a hand to cup his face. 

“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded, eyes roaming over his nephew. There was dried blood covering the lower half of his face, a shallow cut along the bridge of his nose and bruising beginning to show around his right eye that Clint knew would later develop into a full-on shiner. Relinquishing his hold, he moved one of his hands to Peter’s shoulder and guided him over to sit on one of the stools by the kitchen island. The boy followed his directions, a dejected look on his face, and Clint moved to run a dishtowel under the faucet. The room was quiet as he did so, save for the running of the faucet and the soft humming of the refrigerator. Once the towel was damp he turned the water off and walked back to Peter; he held the towel out, a question, and on receiving a nod he began to wipe the blood from his face. 

“What happened, Peter?” he asked quietly, trying to ignore the slight winces appearing on the boy’s face as he cleaned the blood from his nose. 

Peter closed his eyes. “I got in a fight,” he muttered, and Clint scoffed. 

“Yeah, I can see that, kid. You know what I meant, _why_ did you get in a fight? We were all hoping since you’d made it this far that Pepper’s genes were winning out.”

Peter bristled. “I didn’t start it!” he exclaimed, pulling back from Clint’s ministrations. The man held his hands up in surrender, putting the towel down and walking over to the cabinet by the sink to extract the first aid kit. He brought the case to the counter and opened it, pulling various things out. 

“He was talking about Mom.” 

Peter’s voice was defensive, in a way that Clint had never heard the 13 year old sound before, but he simply nodded and applied the small bandage to Peter’s nose.

“What did he say?” he asked, taking some bruise cream and spreading it on the rapidly purpling section of skin under Peter’s eye. 

Peter muttered something under his breath.

“Didn’t catch that,” Clint retorted, putting the cap back on the ointment.

“He called her a gold digger. He said the only reason a _secretary_ ended up being CEO was because she slept with Dad and got pregnant.” Peter spat the words out, and the sudden wave of rage that came over Clint had him seeing red.

“That little shit,” Clint swore, slamming a hand on the counter. Peter nodded, and then let out a dejected sigh. 

“You’re going to tell Mom and Dad I got in a fight, aren’t you?” 

“Nope.” 

The answer shocked Peter, but when he looked up at his uncle there was a determined look on the man’s face. 

“You’re not?”

Clint shook his head. “Nope. What I am going to do, however, is teach you how to deck someone properly when that happens so that they don’t get a hit in. C’mon, we’re going to the gym.”

 

  

**THREE DAYS LATER**

 

 

Clint strolled out of the elevator onto the main floor, pulling his jacket off. He was headed for the kitchen to get a cup of coffee when his progress was halted as he walked into the open living room and found himself facing a gathering of angry-looking faces. Pepper and Tony were both sat on the couch, furious expressions on their faces, and Natasha was looking at him with murderous intent as she stood to the side. The panic began to rise in Clint, and before he could plead innocence to whatever they thought he’d done his gaze fell on the smaller figure sitting beside Pepper….the small figure with stark white bandages wrapped around his right hand. Oh. _Oh._

Tony stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. “Barton,” he began, his voice eerily calm, “care to tell me about a little conversation you had with my kid the other day? You know, the same day that you told us Peter fell off his skateboard?” 

Clint sighed, knowing the game was up, looking away from the man in front of him to meet the eyes of the guilty-looking teenager. 

“You couldn’t make it more than three days, seriously?” he complained, throwing his hands in the air. “I can only do so much, Pete.” 

“You shouldn’t do anything!” Tony exploded, stepping towards the archer and jabbing a finger into his chest. “You lied to us, _his parents_ , and then convinced him to pick a fight with the same kid!” 

Clint frowned. “Whoa, I may have given him a few pointers but it was entirely self-defence, I definitely did _not_ encourage starting fights.” He moved around Tony to stand in front of Peter. “What the hell, kid?” 

Peter dropped his head, rubbing the fingers of his left hand over the bandaging across his fist.

“Исправь это,” Natasha muttered angrily, pointing a finger from Clint to Peter before walking out of the room, and Clint knew it would not be the last he would hear about it from her. 

“Peter,” Pepper said quietly, running a gently hand over her son’s back, “you know we have to talk about this – it’s one thing to act in self-defence,” she spared a glare over to Clint, “but another to be the first to lash out. That’s not okay, and it’s not like you.” 

Peter nodded miserably at his mother’s words, to which Tony sighed.

“Kid, you need to start talking, the more you tell us the less we’ll be inclined to ground you for life,” he stated plainly, crossing his arms. 

Peter looked up at Clint, and he felt the understanding dawn on him as he saw the expression in the boy’s eyes – it was the same expression he saw in Tony’s whenever someone outside of the family dared to mention his son.

“It was the same kid, wasn’t it, the one who said stuff before.” Clint didn’t phrase his remark as a question, knowing he was right, a suspicion that was confirmed at the resigned look on his nephew’s face.

“Yeah,” Peter murmured, speaking for the first time since he and his parents had left Principal Morita’s office earlier than afternoon.

Pepper frowned, looking from Clint to Peter. “What kid? Has someone been saying stuff at school? Peter, are you being bullied?” Her usually calm and collected manner faded, voice rising as she lifted her hands to cup her son’s face and get him to look at her. “Is someone bullying you?” she repeated, gently passing a thumb over the fading bruise under Peter’s eye.

“They’re not bullying me, they just sometimes say stuff.” The teenager shrugged, trying to avoid making eye contact with his mother. Tony’s expression hardened at the dismissal and went to sit on the coffee table in front of the boy, placing a hand on his son’s knee.

“What kind of ‘stuff’?” he demanded. 

Peter shook his head.

“They were talking about you, Pepper,” Clint interjected, ignoring the loud exclamation from Peter as he looked at the redhead. “The same stuff that this guy,” he jerked his head towards Tony, “was suing tabloids for left, right and center back when you first started dating.” 

Comprehension came across Tony and Pepper’s faces, and Clint knew this was to be a discussion he didn’t need to be part of.

“I’m sorry I taught your kid how to punch,” he offered, pretending not to see Tony’s exasperated eye rolling. He raised a hand in farewell, mouthing ‘good luck’ to Peter, and turned to leave. Getting into the elevator, he rode it to the floor the Avengers shared and found himself face to face with Natasha as soon as the doors opened. There was silence, and then she sighed.

“All you had to do was get him a snack, Barton, that was literally the only thing you needed to do.” 


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets trapped on a mission with the Avengers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave kudos and comment on the first chapter, it's always appreciated :)
> 
> Peter is sixteen in this chapter, and he's Spider-Man working with the Avengers. 
> 
> As always, if you enjoy it, let me know with a comment, and any and all errors are my own.

**STEVE, sixteen**

 

Peter woke with a gasp, his eyes flying open and then immediately squeezing closed as a wave of pain hit him.

“God,” he exclaimed through clenched teeth, taking in a deep breath to ground himself. He opened his eyes again, slowly, and looked around him only to see – nothing. Wherever he was, it was dark, and he could barely make out his hands in front of his face. Placing his palms on the ground he tried to push himself up only to meet resistance and a searing jolt of pain.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to understand where the pain hand come from. He fumbled blindly around his right leg where the resistance to movement had been, and as soon as his hands brushed the rough edge of something he knew his leg was trapped underneath whatever it was. The cold fear in his stomach began to turn to panic, and he tried to slow it through taking some deep breaths, just like his mom had taught him to do whenever he got nervous or anxious about something.

“Five things, Peter,” he whispered to himself, just as she did, “five things you know.” He closed his eyes, and began counting.

“One – my leg is trapped under something. Two – I think my head is bleeding because I can feel something wet. Three – I’m in the Spider-Man suit. Four – I’m scared. Five – I need help.”

Taking a shaking breath, Peter went back to the thought that he was in his suit…why was he in his suit? The answer didn’t come to him, but he realised something else – if he had his suit, he had coms. He could get help. Turning his mask over in his hands, having pulled it off in his initial panic, he yanked the ear bud out of the lining and put it into his ear. Immediately, he was met with a cacophony of sounds.

“ _Peter, please Peter, answer me – Peter, c’mon buddy, talk to me._ ”

Peter let out a sigh. “Dad,” he breathed. His dad was there – he would be okay.

There was a cry of relief from the other end of the line. “ _Peter! Oh thank God, Peter are you okay? Where are you? Are you hurt?_ ”

More voices cut in across the coms, and Peter vaguely registered Cap’s issuing orders.

“ _Barton, cover Stark’s six while we get a location on the kid. Vision, make sure Natasha doesn’t kill the guy before we can get answers, got it?”_

_“Kiddo tell me where you are, okay? What do you see around you?"_

Peter let out a choked laugh, and then gasped as pain flared across his ribcage. “I-I don’t know, I can’t see anything.” He could hear the rising hysteria in his own voice, and he knew it must have been evident to the others on the line.

 _“Tony, Barton, take the east side of the building, Wanda and Vision take the west, Romanoff on the south and I’ll cover the north side_.”

 

*

 

The team split, and Steve ran to the north side of the building where the collapse had begun.

 “Talk to us Peter,” he prompted, half out of a need for him to give an indicator of where he was but also to make sure he stayed conscious. “Can you see anything, or do you remember where you were standing before it happened?”

There was a cough on the other end, and Steve registered with gratitude that it didn’t sound wet and they weren’t running against the clock of a punctured lung.

“I can’t see a whole lot, just pipes and stuff.” There was a pause, and another cough. “My leg is trapped under something, and I think I hit my head…I’m tired.”

 _“Peter, remember that LEGO set you and Ted wanted?”_ Tony’s voice cut in on the line, the muffled sounds of shifting debris in the background.

_“Ned.”_

_“Right, Fred. How many pieces did it have?”_

_“What?”_

_“How many pieces did the LEGO set have, Pete? Do you remember what it was building?”_

There was a pause.

“Peter, tell me about the LEGO set,” Steve prompted as he ducked under a partially collapsed column to get into the wreckage of the skyscraper. “If you can persuade your dad to get it, I’ll help you guys build it.”

“ _I…I think it was 1400. It was for the Millennium Falcon.”_

“That’s cool, Peter, from _Star Trek_ right?” The groan across the line had the desired effect, as Peter began muttering in disjointed sentences about the distinction between _Star Wars_ and _Star Trek_ just as Steve had intended – it was a conversation that he tolerated under normal circumstances, but since it riled the kid up it could keep him talking for a while which was exactly what they wanted.

After several minutes of digging, Steve wiped the sweat from his eyes and peering into the dark passageway in front of him.

“ _Peter?_ ”

The name was spoken in a tone just-shy of frantic, and it struck Steve that the coms had been quiet for a few minutes. Tony said his son’s name again, and there continued to be no response. 

“ _We gotta speed this up_ ,” Clint stated bluntly.

A flash of reflection off of his flashlight on the ground caught Steve’s eye, and he knelt down to examine it as his heart began to race. It was a watch he knew well, Peter had spent the better part of the previous summer building it himself to interconnect with FRIDAY and Karen. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands before shoving it into his pocket and taking a breath to steady himself as he moved over a jagged section of stone. 

“Open channel with Barton, FRIDAY,” Steve said quietly as he surveyed the wall of rock in front of him.

“Channel with Clint Barton open, Captain Rogers.”

“ _Cap?_ ”

“I’m turning off the coms,” Steve replied, scanning the ceiling to ensure that when he dislodged the debris it wouldn’t bring the whole thing down on top of them.

“ _Why?_ ” Clint’s voice was hesitant, and Steve’s heart was heavy with the love that was felt by the entire team for this teenage boy.

“I’m on Peter’s location. If I find…” he took a deep breath, steadying himself, “if Peter isn’t alive, I don’t want Stark to have to hear me finding him.” He paused. “I don’t want anyone to hear that, but I need to keep a line open to someone.” 

There was silence on the other end before Clint spoke again, his tone reminding Steve of why he was one of SHIELD’s deadliest weapons. 

“ _If that happens, we will hunt down each and every one of these bastards and make them pay._ ” 

Steve nodded. “Alright. FRIDAY, main coms off.”

“Coms disabled, Captain Rogers.”

“C’mon, Peter,” he muttered as he reached under the slab of rock and began to lift it. He strained under the weight, but eventually it shifted and created an opening to the other side. Dropping the rock, he peered through and immediately recognised the bright suit even in the darkness.

“Peter!” Steve shouted, pushing himself through the gap and throwing himself onto the floor beside the boy. Doing an appraisal of his health in the dark was difficult, but when he pushed his fingers against the pulse point in his neck and felt a steady thrumming he sent up a prayer in thanks. 

“I got him,” he said, and he heard Clint swear loudly. “FRIDAY, coms on.” Placing a hand on Peter’s forehead, he frowned when he pulled it back and saw it had fresh blood on it. “I got him, Tony, he’s banged up but he’s alive.”  

Ignoring the activity that roared on the coms after his declaration, Steve wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist and hauled him to his feet, frowning at the sight of the boy’s leg.

“You’re not walking out of here, Pete,” he said firmly, lifting his shield over his head to the magnetic clasp on his back. He placed an arm under Peter’s knees and lifted the teenager to his chest. 

“We’re on our way out,” he said for the benefit of those on the coms before turning and carrying the boy out of the debris.

It was a little while longer before the sunlight finally began to show through the tunnel, but eventually the pair emerged into the late afternoon New York City sunshine. Steve’s eyes barely had time to adjust to the difference from the darkness before Peter was being pulled from his arms, his arms around the boy being replaced by his father’s. Tony’s eyes were red, the Iron Man suit had been discarded, and the second he had Peter secured in his arms he carried him up the ramp of the waiting quinjet. Following behind at a jog to keep up, Steve watched as Tony lay Peter on the padded stretcher that more often than not was being used as an impromptu medical station during missions, pushing the boy’s blood-matted hair back from his forehead with a shaking hand. Once Peter was lying down the ramp was pulled back and the jet took off, Clint turning around from his position behind the controls every few moments to land his eyes on Peter before Vision prompted him to focus on the navigation. Natasha came up from behind him, a first aid kit open in her hands, and he placed a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Let her work, Tony,” he said softly, unsurprised at the way the man pulled his shoulder out from under his hand. 

“Work around me.” The words were flat, but Steve and Natasha had known Tony long enough to hear the undercurrent of fear. They exchanged a look, and Natasha moved to sit next to Peter’s head while Steve guided Tony to a different position where he could still have a hold on Peter but he was less in the way. 

“Laceration to the forehead,” Natasha muttered, fingers probing at the skin stained by blood above his left eye. “Not too deep, shouldn’t need stitches.” She stood up and moved down the bench to Peter’s right leg, eyes tightening at the angle the lower part of the limb was at. Placing her fingers gently on his calf, she sighed. “This will need to be reset when we get back, it’s started healing in the wrong position.” A gentle-sounding phrase in Russian escaped her mouth, and she smoothed her hand gently over Peter’s hair. 

A sob from behind him startled Steve, and he turned to see Wanda with tears running down her face. It had been a surprise for everyone how well she had gotten along with Peter, considering her relationship with Tony, but the two had become incredibly close once Peter had become Spider-Man. Steve wasn’t sure if it was because they were the youngest on the team, or whether it had anything to do with Pietro, but even if it wasn’t a direct causality of that he belatedly registered the connection the two boys had with their names. Standing from his position beside Tony, he walked over to Wanda and wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, letting her bury her face in his chest. 

“He’s going to be okay,” he murmured as he rubbed a hand over her back, keeping his eyes on the blood-stained red and blue suit. “He’ll be fine.”  

 

 

**LATER THAT DAY**

 

Steve walked down the hall to the med bay, knocking on the door as he walked through it. Before he could say a word, however, he found his personal space filled by a redhead who had wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He reciprocated her hold, feeling a wetness at his collarbone, and when she pulled back he could see tears in her red-rimmed eyes. 

“Thank you, Steve,” she said through a watery smile. 

He lifted a hand to the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “It’s fine, Pepper.” To distract himself, he turned to look at Peter. “How’re you doing, Pete?” 

The boy grinned, looking every bit like a sixteen year old who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Tony was lying next to him in the hospital bed, and Peter had his head nestled against his father’s collarbone while the older man gently carded his fingers through his son’s tousled hair. There was butterfly tape holding together the skin on his forehead where the gash had been, and Steve could make out the bulky shape of a cast underneath the blanket. 

“I’m good, Captain,” he said, Tony rolling his eyes at the answer as Pepper moved back over to the bed. The man extracted himself from the hold of his son, pressing a kiss to his forehead while Peter pulled a face at the action, before standing up and relinquishing the space to Pepper. She immediately climbed onto the bed, and before she could move to wrap her arm around Peter he had instinctively snuggled into her warmth in the way that only a child does with their mother. Tony dropped a kiss on the top of Pepper’s head before gesturing towards the door for Steve to follow him out. Just before he left, though, Steve pulled the watch he’d picked up earlier out of his pocket and handed it to the boy, seeing his eyes light up. 

“I thought I’d lost it!” he exclaimed, turning it over in his hands. He looked up at Steve, eyes bright. “Thanks, Cap.” 

Steve smiled, before turning and following Tony out of the room. Once the two were in the hallway, Tony closed the door gently behind him before letting out a sigh.

“When that building went down and he went silent,” he started, closing his eyes and shaking his head as though to clear the images of the day, “I don’t know what we’d do if we lost him.” 

“But you didn’t,” Steve reminded gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. The other man’s eyes opened at the touch, and he nodded. 

“We didn’t because of you. If anyone else had found him, who knows if they’d been able to get him out.” 

“Wanda could have with her powers, or Vision-” 

Tony sighed dramatically in exasperation. “Just take my thanks, okay Rogers?” 

Steve chuckled. “Sure. You’re welcome, Tony.” He paused, turning to look at the mother and son in the spacious med bay room, the look of adoration on Pepper’s face as she ran her fingers through Peter’s hair a wrenching reminder of what could’ve been a very different ending.

“There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep him safe,” Tony murmured, having turned to look at the pair.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement before movement in the hallway caught his eye. A smile came across his face as he saw the group of people coming down the hall towards them, holding back a laugh at the balloon bouquet Clint was holding and feeling a twinge in his heart at the small stuffed animal Wanda had clasped tightly in her hands. 

“Guess you’re lucky he’s got an entire team of superheroes who’d do anything for him, too.”


	3. Rhodey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter fights with Tony and Pepper, and it takes an outside voice of reason to help him understand. Peter is fourteen, just pre-spiderbite.

**RHODEY, fourteen,**

 

Peter sat on the floor with his back against his bed, arms crossed over his chest as he scowled at the wall. He could still hear his dad yelling downstairs, the knowledge fanning the flame of anger in him. Why did no one ever take _his_ side?

The fight hadn’t started out as the huge blowout it had turned into, it had been more like one of the day-to-day disagreements Peter sometimes had with his parents. His dad had been teaching him about the mechanical engineering of the repulsors in the Iron Man suit, and as Peter had been working on them he had been taking a moment here and there to focus on a project he was working on with Bruce. When Peter had asked about it, he’d told him it was about the residue of energy from the tesseract that had infiltrated the workshop after Vision’s creation, but when the boy asked if he could help he had said no. Peter had pressed him, but Tony insisted it was too dangerous, and the matter was pushed aside – or so Tony had thought. Later that night, long after Peter was supposed to have been asleep, JARVIS had alerted Tony and Pepper to the situation.

  _“Sir, it appears that Master Peter is in the lab and is currently examining Project XC74.”_

_Tony jerked upright from his lounged position on the couch, the tablet in his hand falling to the side. Pepper frowned from her position beside him._

_“What’s XC74?” she asked, swinging her legs off of the sofa and placing them on the floor, anxiety beginning to stir as the color drained from her husband’s face._

_“Shut down all electrics in the lab,” Tony demanded, ignoring his wife as he launched himself off of the couch and ran over to the elevator, slamming his hand into the button. He growled when it didn’t instantaneously appear, moving to wrench open the door to the stairwell beside it. Pepper called after him, and he could hear her following behind, but the constant refrain in his head of his son’s name pushed him forward._

_“Sir, my protocols are being overridden by Master Peter’s code.”_

_Jumping the last half few steps, Tony stumbled into the door and forcefully pulled it open, running through it._

_“PETER STOP.”_

_There was the sound of shattering glass as the microscope slide held in the teenager’s hand was dropped out of surprise, having been startled by his father’s voice. His back was towards Tony, and the man could see the strap of the safety goggles caught in his tousled brown hair. The boy turned slowly, eyes wide as he came face to face with his father._

_He didn’t dare say a word as Tony strode forward, slamming the cover back down on the specimen Peter had been trying to take a sample from, grasped his arm and led him towards the elevator. His mother appeared as they were waiting for the elevator doors to open, and as she took in the scene in the lab her eyes narrowed and she gazed at Peter in a way that sent chills down his spine. Coming to stand beside him, she pulled the goggles from his head and tossed them onto a nearby work bench. Not a single word was spoken until they were in the living room, and that’s when the yelling had started._

 

A knock on his door disrupted Peter from his thoughts, and he studiously ignored it. The knocking continued, and so he picked up one of the books from beside his bed and threw it at the door, hoping to get the message across.

The door opened and Peter closed his eyes, waiting for _another_ lecture. 

“If Steve saw you throwing books around in here he’d beat your ass.” 

Peter opened his eyes at the familiar and unexpected voice and saw his Uncle Rhodey leaning against the doorway, an amused expression on his face. He made a gesture with his hand, clearly asking permission to come in (although Peter knew he would anyway), and when Peter sighed and shifted slightly in his position Rhodey walked over and sat down beside him. His legs stretched out in front of him, he placed a hand on Peter’s knee.

“What happened, Pete,” he asked quietly. 

“I did something I wasn’t supposed to, Dad got mad, Mom got mad, I’m in my room.” 

Rhodey took a deep breath and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “If there was ever any doubt about your parentage, its moments like this where it proves to be completely unfounded.” Turning his head to look at the boy, he tried again. “Why did you go down to the lab when you weren’t supposed to, especially after your dad told you to leave the project alone?” 

There was a pause, but Rhodey knew his nephew well enough to know that he just needed a minute.

“I just wanted to know what kind of genetic structure it was,” Peter mumbled, his arms resting on his knees, looking fixedly at the ground. “It’s a test I do all the time, I don’t know what the big deal was.” 

Rhodey shook his head. “The big deal, Peter, is that you could’ve gotten hurt.” 

“But I didn’t!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I didn’t get hurt, I’m fine, but Dad just kept going on and on about how I’m irresponsible, and Mom had that look on her face where she was trying not to cry, and then she yelled about me not caring about her, I’m _fine_!”

“Did they ever tell you about what happened when you were really little and had to go to the hospital?” 

Peter looked at his uncle in confusion, unsure as to where the segue had been for this tangent. Rhodey ignored him and continued. 

“When you were two you were in Tony’s lab while he was working on the new directional navigation for the missile system he was launching. You were in your Peter-pen – your dad and I called it a cage but your mom threatened to restrict visitation rights if we kept calling the play pen that – and when you started to cry he picked you up and put you in the front seat of the Roadster.” Rhodey smiled at the fondness of the memory of a baby Peter babbling excitedly as he bashed the steering wheel of the classic car. “He looked away for a second – just one second – and in that second you pushed the door open and fell out of the car.”

Rhodey paused, shaking his head. “I’ll never forget the sight of Tony with you in his arms coming out of that workshop.” 

Peter shrugged. “Okay, so I hit my head when I was a baby, all kids do that – he had to bubble wrap me for the rest of my life now?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Rhodey spoke sharply. “You had an arrhythmia as a baby, Pete. The shock of hitting the ground stopped your heart.” 

The words froze Peter, and he felt his blood run cold. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Rhodey muttered. “Your heart rhythm was disrupted by your fall, you were in the PICU for four days. Tony and Pepper refused to leave the hospital, and when you got home it was months before Tony would take his eyes off of you. Pepper never blamed him, no one did, but he sure as hell blamed himself.” 

Peter felt a tear running down his cheek, and a finger brushed across his face to wipe it away. 

“I scared them, didn’t I?” he whispered, and Rhodey nodded. 

“Yeah, buddy,” he agreed, moving his hand to cup the side of Peter’s face. “Do you know what Uncle Bruce and your dad were working on?”

Peter shook his head miserably. 

“Did you know why your dad told you that you couldn’t help with the project?” 

A shake. 

“Has he ever given you a good reason not to listen to him?” 

A shake. 

Rhodey nodded. “Right. So is there someone you owe an apology right now?”

 

*

 

 “Dad?”

The quiet remark came from the doorway, and Tony turned to see Rhodey with his hand on Peter’s back. The boys eyes were watery, but while he felt his internal defences breaking down Tony knew he needed to stand his ground. Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow as the two approached, with eventually just Peter coming to stand in front of his father as Rhodey hung back. The boy met Tony’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry, dad,” he whispered, looking up at him. “You told me not to do something and I did it anyway. I’m sorry for not listening to you.” 

Tony managed to keep the stern expression on his face for all of a second after his son’s apology before sighing and pulling the boy into him.

“C’mere,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Peter, the boy pressing his face into his chest. Rubbing his back, Tony nodded thanks to his best friend as the man left the room. 

“You know I’m just trying to keep you safe, right kiddo?” Tony murmured into Peter’s hair, pressing a kiss to it. Peter nodded into his chest, and Tony exhaled before gently pushing him away. 

“I think there’s someone else who needs an apology too, Pete,” he said, his words strong but not harsh. Peter nodded regretfully before turning towards the kitchen where he could hear his mother making tea. Tony followed after but hung back, allowing the two to have their own moment. He watched as Peter gave his apology to Pepper, and as his wife brought her arms around their child just as he had. A soft smile grew on his face. 

He didn’t know what Rhodey had said to Peter, but sure enough the boy never did anything in the lab again without his permission – outside of the lab was another matter, but if the most rebellious his son got to be was going to a midnight showing of _Force Awakens_ after they’d told him no Tony would gladly take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter, but I'm happy enough with how it turned out. As always, thanks for reading, and comments and feedback are always appreciated!


	4. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha comforts Peter during a thunderstorm

**NATASHA, ten**

 

The thunder storm disrupting the New York streets below the tower let out another rolling crash, following by a sheet of lightning that lit up the night sky. In the dark of the night it showed no signs of letting up, the rain pounding against the windows, and the ten-year old boy under the covers in his bedroom let out another muffled sob. Peter pulled the covers up over his head before clamping his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Normally when there was a storm he was up and out of his bed and into his parents’ within seconds, but his mom and dad were both away on business. They hadn’t said why – “you’re too young to understand, Pete” – but considering his Aunt Nat had showed up out of the blue looking exhausted and the news was talking about SHIELD, he figured the two were connected. His parents had left for DC for a few days, and Aunt Nat had stayed behind with him.

 

Another clap of thunder shook the tower, and tears escaped Peter’s eyes as he squeezed them shut against the noise. He was so caught up in his fear that he didn’t notice his bedroom door being pushed open or the presence of another person in the room until they were sat on his bed, pulling the covers back and pulling him into them. Slender arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he burrowed his head into his Aunt Nat’s shoulder. She began carding a hand through his hair, and the familiarity of the movement caused some of his tension to dissipate.

 

The two sat like that for a few moments before Natasha broke the silence.

 

“You didn’t tell me you were scared of thunderstorms, Peter,” she said softly, a tinge of sadness in her voice. “Why didn’t you come to me when it started?”

 

A loud _boom_ elicited a whine from Peter, but as soon as it escaped his mouth he cringed and tried to withdraw from the embrace Natasha had him held in. The gears in her head turned, and as it clicked into place she cupped his face in her hands and forced him to look at her.

 

"Fear is  _nothing_ to be ashamed of," she said quietly but firmly, leaving no room for the boy to argue. "'Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something is more important than fear'."

 

“Franklin D. Roosevelt,” Peter muttered, finally lifting his eyes from his hands to meet her gaze.

 

When Pepper had called Natasha had been reading the book Tony had shoved into her hands on his way out, only noticing after he had left that it was a book she had picked up with interest the last time she was in the tower before being relocated to DC. She’d never gotten the chance to start it, and the fact that Tony had remembered served as another reminder as to why she had not only come to him to tell him what had happened, but why she had stayed. Tony Stark was misjudged by most people, even those who knew him personally, but after the attack at the Stark Expo she had been folded into his family. His son called her Aunt Nat, she spoke with Pepper frequently and enjoyed her company, and she knew she would always have a place with the little family of three. The worry had been clear in the other woman’s voice as she asked if Peter was alright, and when Natasha had asked why Pepper had explained that the boy had been scared of thunderstorms since he was a baby.

 

The silence in between the crashing rolls of thunder through the dark sky above New York City were punctuated by the sound of the rain on the window and sniffling coming from the head that had given in and pressed itself against Natasha. As the storm raged on outside, she took a moment to make an executive decision that she knew she may regret tomorrow morning. Pushing back the galaxy-covered comforter, she sat up and pulled Peter upright with her as she swung her legs off of the bed.

 

“Come on,” she took his hand, guiding him off of the bed, “if we’re going to be awake we might as well be doing something fun.”

 

The two walked to the kitchen, turning on every light in the hallway as they went so that the entire floor was illuminated with a warm glow. In the kitchen itself Natasha brought down two mugs and a the hot chocolate mix she had imported from Switzerland (her one indulgence, and after the black eye she’d given Clint when he’d teased her had ended any commentary from the team). Peter’s eyes widened as she placed the container on the counter; Natasha’s hot chocolate mix was only brought out on special occasions or moments where it was really needed.

 

As he watched his aunt measure out the different components for the drink with care he lifted himself to sit on the counter. Natasha cast a side-long glance and smirked, knowing he was taking advantage of the fact that she wouldn’t reprimand him for something he was knew he was not allowed to do tonight. While the thunder still roared in the background, it was drowned out by the soft clattering of kitchen utensils on the stove as milk was heated in a pan and mixed with the rich cocoa powder before being divided into mugs. The rustling of a package brought a smile onto the young boy’s face as mini marshmallows were then plopped into the mugs. He hopped down from the counter, and once his feet were planted on the floor Natasha handed him one of the mugs, the warm smile she received in return filling her heart in a way that only Peter ever did.

 

“Let’s go, kiddo.” Taking the hand that wasn’t holding his mug of hot chocolate Natasha padded down the hallway beside Peter to his room. Once they were surrounded by the familiar blue walls adorned with _Star Wars_ posters – and, of course, the official ‘Battle of New York’ print of all six Avengers – Natasha extracted the mug from Peter’s grasp and placed it onto the nightstand along with her own. The light switch for the tiny pinprick LEDs designed in the outline of the constellations across the ceiling was beside the door and so she moved to turn them on as she switched the main lights off. Instantly the light in the room was dimmed and replaced by the faint glow of the make believe stars across the high ceiling.

 

She walked back over to Peter’s bed and playfully shoved him. “Move over, kid, you’re a worse bed hog than Barton.”

 

Peter covered a laugh with a hand over his mouth and obediently shuffled over.

 

“There we go, get comfortable.” Natasha pulled the covers up over the two before propping another pillow behind Peter’s head. Once he was situated she handed him his mug before shuffling down herself. Grasping her cup, she brought it to her mouth and looked at the screen on the wall.

 

“JARVIS,” she addresses the AI, “let’s put on some _Brooklyn Nine Nine,_ any episode from the second season. ”

 

“Of course, Agent Romanoff.”

 

As the screen flickered to life with the cold open of a random episode of the comedy that was a recurring favorite in the tower she felt Peter snuggle down further under the covers and press himself against her side. The storm outside of the windows was coming to a close, the thunder having ceased within the last ten minutes, but as the clock hit 12, then 1, then 2, every now and then Natasha found herself looking at the child next to her and knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep him safe, protected and loved. There would be a lot of explaining to do in the morning with Tony and Pepper when she called him in absent to school and blew off yet another briefing with the remainder of the World Security Council, but if bureaucracy was the price of getting to see this kid grow up and be a part of his life she’d deal with the fallout a hundred times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is stupidly delayed and I'm really sorry about that - we've been without internet for TWO WEEKS I AM DYING.


	5. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Thor wants to spend some time with Peter he forgets that the child isn't allowed to leave the block without telling his parents, let alone the planet.

**THOR, eleven,**

 

Peter’s pencil tapped an incessant rhythm on his desk, his mind wandering as his teacher droned on about the solar system. Growing up as the son of Tony Stark he had been well versed in all things science since a young age, but his mother’s involvement in this had led him to realise that not all children had this upbringing and he wasn’t to act like everything being taught in his classrooms were obvious. He would be starting at the middle school that filtered in to Midtown Science in the fall and he was so excited to be at a school so focused on subjects he loved, and if that meant another nine months of regular elementary school he could handle it. There was another five minutes left of his class before recess, and then he only had another couple of weeks before summer vacation.

 

The dismissal for lunch couldn’t have come a moment too soon – one of Peter’s friends from another class had recently gotten a vintage copy of Super Mario Bros and he’d promised Peter a turn over lunch. Grabbing his jacket by the collar and yanking it off of his chair Peter bolted out of the classroom as soon as they were excused. He shouted a ‘bye’ at the hall monitor and burst out of the main doors into the courtyard. His head whipped around to spot Michael and his magnificent GameBoy, but as he looked around he saw something he was entirely surprised to discover.

 

“Young Peter!”

 

The voice that carried over the concrete of the play yard had heads turning to see where it had come from, carrying an air of authority and respect, and Peter’s eyes widened at seeing Thor standing in street clothes by the school gate, umbrella-disguised Mjolnir and all. Peter took hurried steps towards the Norse God, very conscious of the fact that students weren't allowed by the gate during school hours.

 

“Thor!” he exclaimed as he got to the Avenger trying to ‘blend in’ with a pair of jeans and an AC/DC shirt that looked identical to one that Tony had in his closet. On his last trip Natasha, Clint and Tony had staged an intervention on him wearing his usual Asgardian garb on Earth since it was about as subtle as walking around with a giant magical hammer, and so his new wardrobe was inspired by the pieces he'd seen other Avengers wearing - Steve's favorite button-down shirts, vintage band t-shirts and Clint's preferred brand of leather jackets.

 

The Norse God grinned as Peter approached him and wasted no time in pulling him in for a hug. While he hadn’t been around as often as Steve and Bruce had, he had found himself incredibly fond of Tony’s son and had decided to take the detour on his latest visit to Midgard to spend time with him.

 

Peter extracted himself from the huge arms and looked up at the Avenger quizzically. “What are you doing here?” he inquired, eyes wide.

 

Thor flipped his umbrella over in his hands, the metallic sound of Mjolnir still audible, and he held out a hand to Peter.

 

“I realised that you have spent time with all of the Avengers, yet never with me,” he replied, grasping Peter’s hand in his own before raising the point of the umbrella to the sky. Before Peter could say anything, Thor summoned the bifrost and the two were consumed by it.

 

“ _WOW_ ,” Peter yelled, his senses overwhelmed by the tunnel of light. He hadn’t thought about interdimensional travel in scientific terms very much – he was only eleven, after all – but if he squinted Peter swore that he could _see_ atoms in their raw original state as they changed and transformed into the molecular structures that built the universe. Before he had too much time to think about it, though, Thor let go of his hand and wrapped an arm firmly around his shoulders instead, a hold which he used to guide Peter into a smooth landing on a platform in a golden room. It seemed dark with the sudden exit from the rainbow tunnel, and Peter blinked a couple of times to get his eyes to adjust.

 

“Your trip to Midgard has been cut short, I see.”

 

Head shooting up at the new voice, Peter met the golden eyes of a man holding the biggest sword he had ever seen, even including the ones on display at the Natural History Museum his mom took him around every few months. He took a step backwards, his back meeting Thor’s very hard chest. As if sensing his unease, the man relinquished his hold on the sword to a fixture in the ground and stepped away from it before nodding deeply, almost as if he was bowing, to Peter.

 

Peter felt Thor’s chuckle vibrate through his chest, and the god placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

 

“Peter, this is Heimdall. He is the gate keeper of Asgard, he is the one who sees all.” Thor took two steps to stand beside Peter rather than behind him. “He is the one who tells me that you are well, and your family, when I am unable to visit.”

 

Heimdall could see the moment the uncertainty changed to curiosity in the boy’s eyes as they widened to take in this new information.

 

Peter stepped towards Heimdall, all previous hesitance forgotten as the flow of questions escaped his mouth. “You see _everything_? Like, EVERYTHING everything? Did you see that time that my dad went to space? Or when I fell out of the tree last year? Can you see the past? Were you _here_ for the past? Did you see Einstein discover the theory of relativity, or Schrödinger’s atomic model?” As he ran out of air in his excitement Peter took a deep breath before he suddenly realised something Thor had said and he whipped around to face him.

 

“WE’RE ON ASGARD?”

***

 

“Colonel Rhodes on line one, Miss Potts.”

 

Pepper set her mug down on top of her desk, nodding her thanks at her assistant as they closed the door behind them before she picked up the phone in front of her.

 

“Hi Rhodey,” the greeting offered as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder while she replied to one of the few emails she had left to answer before she went home today if she didn’t want anything to do once she was home.

 

There was a frustrated sigh on the other end. “ _In future, please remember that I love Peter, but I’m also relatively important to the US military and so if you’re going to have someone else pick him up from school then maybe, I don’t know, remember to tell me?_ ”

 

The _thud_ the phone handset made as it dropped from the precarious balance between Pepper’s shoulder and the glass top of her desk startled the redhead enough that she was on her knees scrambling to pick it up, chair forgotten. She could hear a loud exclamation on the other end, ignoring Rhodey’s shocked questioning of what had happened.

 

“What do you mean someone else picked him up?” she asked frantically, throwing her door open and waving a hand urgently at her secretary and mouthing for them to call Tony.

 

“ _When I got to the school gates someone recognised me and asked why I was there when someone had already picked Peter up, I assumed it was you or Tony._ ” There was a pause, and when he spoke again Rhodey’s tone was lower and had the composure of a military man with years of experience of internally controlling the urge to panic. “ _You didn’t have someone else get him today?_ ”

 

Pepper felt tears escaping the corners of her eyes, and she put a hand over her mouth. “No,” she whispered, and she heard the deep intake of breath on the other end. Her assistant appeared in front of her at that moment and without speaking took the phone Pepper was holding and replaced it with another. Pepper lifted it to her ear.

 

“ _Pep?_ ” Tony’s voice was filled with concern as it wasn’t often that he was called by the CEO’s secretary instead of the woman herself. “ _What’s wrong, what happened?_ ”

 

“Did you -”, Pepper took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, “did you have someone get Peter from school today, other than Rhodey?”

 

“ _No, Rhodey always gets him the last Wednesday of the month, when I talked to him earlier he said he was leaving._ ”

 

“Oh, my god.”

 

“ _Tell me you’re kidding._ ” There was a loud clattering in the background, likely Tony having dropped whatever tool he’d been holding in the workshop unceremoniously, and the tell-tale sound of the Iron Man suit engaging moments later. “ _I’m calling Rhodey – baby, it’s going to be fine. It’ll be fine.”_ The panicked tone of her husband’s voice had Pepper unsure of whether or not the assurance were meant for her or for himself, and just before the call cut out she could hear the boost of thrusters.

 

The next thirty minutes would haunt Pepper for the rest of her life – the arrival of the NYPD, trying to remember what Peter had been wearing when he’d left for school that morning, if there had been any threats made against the company or themselves in the last few months, but the look of devastation and desolation in Tony’s eyes when he turned up two hours later without Peter was what broke her. An APB had been put out, Steve and Rhodey were searching Manhattan while Happy and Clint ran searches of the outer boroughs and Natasha explored leads into professional organisations. With the armour standing ready to go on the balcony the moment there was a trail to be followed Tony drew Pepper into his arms amidst the flurry of activity in her office as she began to sob.

 

“We’ll find him,” he murmured into her hair as they held on to each other tightly.

 

“Uh, Mr Stark? Do you know what that is?”

 

Tony lifted his head at the hesitant interjection of the police officer to look at them, and when he saw they were pointing at the balcony he released Pepper and turned to see something he had seen several times in the last few years. Pepper turned to see what he was looking at, and the two watched as the light from the bifrost faded to reveal a sight that had Pepper lurching forward towards the open doors and Tony frozen in shock. Thor and Peter both had matching expressions of guilt on their faces, but Thor’s also carried a strong element of shame. The two men were ignored by the mother who had eyes only for her son.

 

“ _Peter_ ,” Pepper gasped, and as soon as she was standing in front of him she dropped to her knees and pulled him into her. Her arms wound around his small frame tightly, one hand coming up and tangling in his hair, and as the two embraced the shock Tony was feeling gave way to two very different emotions – relief and an incredible wave of anger. Forcing the anger down he felt himself flooded by the relief at seeing Peter in front of him and he dropped to a crouch beside his wife and son. Pepper pulled out of the hug and Peter looked up at his father through his distinctly Stark eyes.

 

“Jesus,” Tony swore as he pulled his son into him, ignoring the sting in his knees at the uncomfortable position as he relished holding his kid in his arms and knowing that he was alive, well and not in any danger. Giving himself a few moments to just enjoy that knowledge, Tony sniffed before finally letting go and moving to cup on hand under Peter’s chin and levelling him with a firm stare.

 

“Clarification – when we say you’re not allowed to go somewhere without telling us, I didn’t think I needed to specify that it included foreign planets, but that is now _very much part of the rule_.”

 

Peter gave a watery laugh and nodded. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered tearfully. Pepper wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into her side, the NYPD officers behind them retracting the APB and packing up equipment as the SHIELD agent contacted the Avengers to let them know Peter was safe.

 

Tony stood up and immediately made eye contact with Thor who had the decency to look at the floor as opposed to holding his gaze.

 

“Explain,” he demanded flatly, his voice dangerously low.

 

Thor lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Forgive me, Stark,” he paused, nodding his head low in respect towards Pepper, “Forgive me, Mrs Stark.” He lifted his head to look at Tony. “I simply wished to spend time with Peter; Heimdall said he was at school, and I thought that it would be alright to take him for the afternoon. It was only when Heimdall alerted me to your distress that I realised my mistake, and I brought him straight here. I am truly sorry for any upset I have caused by taking young Peter to Asgard.”

 

The sincerity in Thor’s voice was almost enough to sway Tony’s resolve, but he was instantly reminded of the bitter fear he had been feeling not ten minutes ago and his anger and betrayal returned with a vengeance.

 

“Let’s make one thing clear,” he said venomously, taking a step towards Thor. He lifted a hand and pointed behind him without turning his gaze. “That kid? That is _my_ kid. I don’t care how much you like him, I don’t care how things are done on your planet, on my planet _you don’t take people’s kids without asking_.” The volume of Tony’s voice rose with each punctuated word and it pleased him to see the great and powerful God of Thunder shrink with his admonishment.

 

The look on Thor’s face was filled with regret and shame, and after a moment of silence passed Tony sighed.

 

“Christ,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. He looked back at Pepper and Peter, his wife moving to her feet and bringing their son up with her, before turning back to his fellow Avenger.

 

Feeling like he was making a deal with his own child, Tony put forward a gesture to ensure that the god didn’t think he had been blacklisted from all family involvement. “We have a movie night with whoever is in town tomorrow – you better be there, and you should bring beer because whenever we leave Barton in charge of drinks we end up with twelve bottles of Kaluha and nothing else.” He received a vigorous nod and agreement in response, and he clapped his hands together.

 

“Groovy. Alright, well, I’m going to take my wife and kid home since we thought we’d be going home without him tonight, and someone better be dead or imminently about to die if anyone calls tonight.”

 

With that dismissal Tony held out a hand to Pepper, helping her to her feet, while Peter clambered up as well. Once the trio were by the elevator Tony held out a hand to his son and Peter, who had begun insisting that he was too old for such things, took it without fuss. The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.

 

“So,” Tony began, a small grin on his face as he looked down at Peter, “how was space?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so so sooooo overdue - sorry! I make no excuse, I'm just a procrastinator and find it hard to force myself to write if I'm not feeling it (mainly because if I'm not in the right zone it all comes out as crap). Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this - if you like it, I love reading your comments! I'm also looking for prompts for my next story/any one-shots, so feel free to leave them!
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so any and all errors I get to take credit for....proof-reading is not my forte for my own writing.


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